Erasing the Line
by Dancer of the Moonlit Lake
Summary: Three years after she took over SyndroCorp, Mirage was surprised to find Syndrome in her office, but not surprised to see that he wants revenge. Meanwhile, Violet questions the line between who's "super" and who's not, and who is the right one to draw it.
1. Chapter One

Erasing the Line  
By Dancer of the Moonlit Lake  
---------------

_"…and so, with a ratio of six votes to one, the Right for Super Humans Amendment goes into the next stage of approval…"_

_"…the President was quoted in favor of these ultra-humans, also known as 'Supers', in respect that normal law enforcement may not be enough to stop abnormal criminals…"_

These quotes, along with many others, had been collected on the wall of Robert Parr's office. It had been three years since Bob--Mr. Incredible--and his family started protecting the city of Metroville. Three long, dry years of political arguments and social debates. In the end, amendments were made and laws were passed to ensure the rights of super-humans. It was widely agreed that those who had the power to stop evil also had the _responsibility_ to do so. They were forbidden to influence the political system, they were forbidden to hinder suicides… Super heroes weren't allowed to do a lot of things, but once their rights were granted, the Supers returned in full force.

But this story begins far from any courthouse, or even the house of Bob Parr. It begins on a remote island teeming with technology, in the private quarters of a very successful woman, where a blonde Super is opening her mail.

Mirage was sitting a large breakfast nook, sipping her coffee when the mail arrived. She thumbed through the various business letters that consumed the pile, and a small blue envelope caught her eye. There was no return address, just her name written on the cover.

"Interesting," Mirage said aloud. "I wonder who it's from…"

Without hesitation, she used a long fingernail to open the envelope. A square business card feel onto her palm, along with a small, round disk the size of a quarter.

"What the…?" Mirage puzzled. She weighed the disk in her palm, confused.

She turned over the card. Two words in familiar handwriting met her eyes.

_"Hello, sweetheart."_

The disk grew warm in her hand. Then, very suddenly, Mirage wasn't in her breakfast nook at all.  
---------------

"We're leaving in five minutes! Dash, make sure your sister's awake!"

The same morning Mirage found the blue envelope, Violet Parr awoke to her mother's voice. She blinked a few times at the wall, then felt a very sharp poke on the back of her head.

"Vi'," her brother, Dash, pestered, "Mom says you gotta get up."

"Go away, insect," Violet said grumpily.

"MOM! VIOLET'S CALLING ME NAMES!" Dash cried, causing the groggy Violet even more annoyance.

"Dash, help Jack-Jack get his shoes on," their mother, Helen Parr, called from the kitchen. "And Vi', make sure you have the permission slip you need for that field trip today!"

The twelve-year old boy left Violet room. The girl climbed out of bed and changed into a violet shirt- her favorite color, after her namesake. She gathered her books and slowly made her way to the car.

Violet's mom and her siblings were already there, waiting. Over all the commotion and normality of their daily lives, Violet could hardly believe they were super heroes. No one could ever guess, simply by looking at her, that hidden in her book-bag was a super-suit and mask.

Well, Violet thought as the car pulled out of the driveway, at least with our super powers, life can never get much worse.  
---------------

Once Mirage recovered from the shock of vanishing from the breakfast table, she realized she was standing in her own office. But… How could she be there? She looked at the disk in her hand for answers.

An all-too familiar voice spoke from across the room.

"You like my new invention, Mirage? Teleportation! It makes flying seem obsolete… Well, almost." The person let out a seemingly good-natured laugh.

Mirage looked up and glared at the man seated behind her desk. "Your supposed to be dead!" she yelled, amazement and horror in her tone.

Syndrome, Mr. Incredible's self-proclaimed nemesis, grinned at his former colleague. Mirage gaped at the smiling figure. Syndrome's appearance had changed. In fact, he looked more professional, save the menacing remote he still wore around his wrist and the crazy red hair that grew straight upwards. Gone was his cape and super-suit, replaced with casual clothes. His mask was absent as well, his blue eyes gleaming with pleasure. "Aww, come on, sweetheart. You don't sound happy to see me."

"Of course not!" Mirage shouted, advancing towards the desk, "Last time you were alive," she emphasized the last word by slamming her fist on the hard wood, "You were wanted by the entire nation!"

Syndrome's grin grew wider as he leaned back in his chair. Mirage continued to gape at him, now completely lost for words.

"How…" she began, curiosity overriding her anger, "How DID you survive anyway? Your death was all over the news."

Syndrome lifted his wrist, admiring the remote he donned. "You can't honestly think I'd let that jet propeller tear me into tiny bits? I froze the blades before they could slice me into small, bloody... Well, you get the picture."

"But the explosion-!"

"Edna Mode doesn't call her suits 'indestructible' for nothing, babe. And you're right, I was wanted by the entire American nation. However, I found that other countries are more forgiving when you make large donations. They'll let you hide just about anywhere, so long as you keep the weapons coming. But enough about me. It seems you've doing well, living off my inventions." Syndrome arose from his seat and walked around the massive office that had once been his. "Can't say I love what you've done to the place. There's no more 'S' insignia on the furniture."

Mirage seated herself behind the desk. "This island, its technology, it's all mine now. Mr. Incredible and his family left this location secret, and I've been making my own inventions for three years--for the betterment of mankind, of course."

Syndrome pointed an accusing finger at her. "Yeah, inventing off the blueprints and ideas I left behind!"

Mirage raised a slender eyebrow. She then folded her hands in her lap and sighed. "Enough. What are you doing here?"

"Glad you asked!" Syndrome exclaimed, approaching the desk once more. He reached inside his pocket and held out a holographic sphere. The metal object whirled, then the image of Syndrome's Omnidroid poured forth. "See these schematics? I've realized-"

Mirage interrupted angrily, though she could not hide the hurt in her voice. "This is all you're here for? You want to take over the world?"

"I never wanted to take over the world! I wanted to become a super hero!"

Mirage feigned confusion, "So your Omnidroid only tried to destroy people because…?"

"That robot was not designed to kill, and you know it!" Syndrome yelled. "I wanted people to think it was dangerous, yes, only so I could save them. But then Mr. Incredible had to step in and…" The villain trailed off, then sighed. "I want revenge, babe. That's what I'm here for."

"As if the Incredibles couldn't stop you."

"Listen, it could actually work this time! I've analyzed the battle from three years ago and I know how to avoid my mistakes. Last time I didn't know about Mr. Incredible's family. Also, I foolishly programmed the Omnidroid to protect its existence. I didn't realize it would turn on me as well." Syndrome pocketed his hologram once more. "The only factor in my defeat that I can't figure out is… How did that blasted family get off this island?"

Mirage drew herself up to her full height. "I let them escape. I gave them transportation and your coordinates."

Syndrome's face went slightly pale, his freckles sticking out more than usual. "Y-you… Why?!"

Mirage's eyes narrowed as she glowered at Syndrome's distraught features. "You don't remember a certain gamble? One you took willingly—almost gladly—one that, should you have lost, would have cost my life."

The betrayal left Syndrome's face almost instantly. "Come on, sweetheart. You're still mad about that? I told you I had everything under control-"

"Did you?" Mirage spat, then looked away in disgust. Syndrome sighed, exasperated.

"Hell hath no fury," he murmured, "Like a super-woman scorned."

Mirage's gaze returned to his. "So what if I'm a Super? That doesn't make my life any less valuable, nor does it make me any less human."

Syndrome turned away and pretended to examine a painting. "That's not true. You Super-humans think your better than everyone else. That's why I started inventing in the first place… So I could be a Super, too."

There was along pause of silence. Finally, Mirage opened the bottom desk drawer and pulled out a droid similar to the one Syndrome used to scan rooms. "Remember this?" she asked, but Syndrome did not turn around. "This tests for the genome that only resides in Super-human DNA. This is what you used to find the location of all those Supers you killed. You invented it, but I wonder… Why did you never use it on yourself?"

Syndrome was very, very silent. His shoulders went rigid, and he refused to face Mirage. At last, he answered, "There was never any need."

Mirage grinned. "I mean, how many eight-year olds can create boots that allow him to fly? How many eleven-year olds can make futuristic weapons?"

"Really smart ones, Mirage. Don't go where you're thinking about going."

"How many fifteen-year olds start production on their own private island? He'd have to be, dare I say it, SUPER-intelligent."

"I said, don't go there."

"I just think it would terribly ironic… You spend your entire life trying to rid the world of Supers, only to find out you're one yourself!"

"SHUT UP!"

In a flash of light, Syndrome whirled around and froze Mirage with his remote. Contempt was ridden all over his face. "I told you not to go there." He paused and took a deep breath. Mirage, frozen in her chair, moved her eyes widely, not knowing what to expect. Syndrome ran a hand through his wild hair. "I am out for revenge, sweetheart, and I can do it with or without your help this time." He pulled out a few papers and the blueprint for a new machine, then spread them in front of the frozen Mirage. "Take a look at my plans. Are you with me or not?"

Mirage gasped for breath as Syndrome released his control on her. Hesitantly, she grasped the nearest paper and examined it. The sheet contained a list of names.

"You've found Supers who are actually willing to help you?" she marveled.

Syndrome waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah. They're newbies, but they've got what it takes. I have them going through their paces as we speak, in Metroville."

As Mirage looked through the various papers, she became more and more impressed. Against her better judgement, she inwardly admitted that Syndrome's new plan could work. She felt her pulse quicken with excitement; she hadn't been lying when she told Mr. Incredible that she was attracted to power.

Mirage sighed and closed her eyes. Regardless of her answer, Syndrome would undoubtedly take control of the island once more. What he would do with her if she refused to join him, she could only guess… It would be safer, she decided, to play along.

She opened her eyes and smiled.

"I'm with you."


	2. Chapter Two

Erasing the Line  
By Dancer of the Moonlit Lake  
---------------

"To your left, you'll see some very interesting documents, signed right here in this very hall…"

Violet felt her eyes droop as her teacher led the class through Metroville's city hall. As part of a major history grade, she was to endure this moronic field trip and write a report about it later. While the logical part of her brain understood this, she could help being bored.

Her eyes wandered out a large window, instead of the documents she was supposed to be examining. Across the street resided the Mertoville First National Bank… and it was surrounded by several police cars.

Violet's heart gave a leap. A bank robbery! At last, salvation from mediocrity!

"I have to go to the bathroom," Violet heard herself say. Before her teacher could stop her, Violet had broken away from the group. In a ladies' room stall, she hastily threw on her super-suit. She turned invisible and hurried across the street.

The police chief was interrogating a witness. The woman seemed quite upset. Violet, still invisible, listened to their conversation.

"Calm down," the chief soothed, "Is there anyone else inside the bank? Any hostages at all?"

The woman swallowed and shook her head. "No. Th-there were three boys, they burst in so suddenly… They demanded that everyone get outside, they forced the bank tellers out, too… Everyone ran… That's all I remember…"

"Can you describe the boys to me?"

"They were in matching suits. I couldn't see their faces, they all had visors of some sort…"

Violet turned away and slipped inside the bank. No one was even aware of her presence, save when she opened the door. Even then, the police assumed it had been the wind.

The inside of the bank was quiet and empty. Violet couldn't see the thieves anywhere, but she'd stopped enough bank robberies over the past three years to know that criminals never linger in the hall; they head straight for the vaults.

She rushed through a myriad of hallways and came to the first vault. The metal door had been reduced to rubble. Violet peered inside.

In the middle of the room stood a boy a bit older than her. He wore a suit of dark blue with white boots and gloves. Across his eyes he donned a white visor. He seemed to be a typical high-paid criminal, except he didn't have to move at all. The money and gold bricks that occupied the vault seemed to fly towards him at the mere flick of a wrist. He quickly stuffed the bags at his feet.

"He can move things at will… He's psychic!" Violet whispered to herself.

The boy heard her. He turned around, looked straight at Violet, and smiled. "You're Mr. Incredible's daughter! The invisible one, right? You might as well stop hiding."

"Y-You can see me?" Violet choked, her throat closing in fear. She resumed visibility. The boy took off his visor, revealing chestnut-colored eyes.

"These visors are heat sensitive. Good for spotting lasers, security devices and pretty super-girls," he said, offering her a sheepish grin..

Violet felt herself blush against her will. "That's a nice line, but I don't date criminals."

The boy moved towards her. The bags of money rose into the air and followed him.

"What, you mean this? It's just a one-time thing. My boss wanted to see if I could do it, that's all. He knows all about you, your family, and your powers. So do I."

"And just who is you 'boss?'" Violet asked. The boy stopped just in front of her and smiled once more, but he did not answer. A diamond floated into his hand. He held it out for her. Violet's stared back at him confidently. "I also don't take stolen gifts."

"Okay, party's over," a strong voice said from behind Violet. She turned and saw two others wearing uniforms identical to the physic boy's. The one who spoke was in his early twenties, red hair, and was much taller than the rest of them. Slung over both shoulders were bags of stolen money. The other was between the ages of his partners, but his skin was a pale blue color.

The redhead spoke again. "The police are moving in. I've got us a back-way out."

The psychic boy stepped towards them.

"Sorry, super-girl, but we have to go," he said. "Don't bother using a force-field to trap us. Wildfire here," he motioned towards his large comrade, "could break through it, easy." As his teammates ran down the hall, he reached out and grasped Violet's hand. He pressed his gift into it. "It was a pleasure to meet you. My name's Joshua."

And just as quickly as they came, the three boys disappeared. Violet was left with a diamond in her hand, and confusion in her mind and heart.  
---------------

Mirage's former employees were, to say the least, _surprised_ to see Syndrome alive. He'd gathered them all into the main hall and hovered over them on a platform, Mirage at his side. They'd been standing there for fifteen minutes, listening as Syndrome spilled some monologue about his latest plan. Many of them were greatly confused; they were hired after Syndrome's "death" and had never performed acts of villainy.

Mirage coughed into her hand, encouraging Syndrome to wrap up his speech.

Syndrome leaned forward over his platform and shouted, "In short, if you all shut up and do as I say, you'll get a big raise! Triple whatever Mirage was paying you!"

Comprehension washed throughout the crowd. Some started cheering, others applauded. Mirage rolled her eyes as she followed Syndrome from the platform and into a hallway.

"Production on the new Omnidroid must begin immediately," Syndrome called lazily over his shoulder. Mirage pretended to write that down on a clipboard. "I also need a new super-suit. How fast can Edna Mode have one done?"

"Edna doesn't design suits for villains," Mirage reminded. "You told her you were a Super last time, but I doubt she'll be fooled again."

"Anyone can bribed, sweetheart," Sydrome shrugged. "Offer Edna an obscene amount of money for the suit, and for her silence, bribe her with new gadgets for her designing studio. My suit needs to be heat proof (that stupid 'Incredible' baby turns into fire,) virtually indestructible, accessible to all my inventions…"

Mirage stopped listening. Syndrome was like a small child; if you nodded and pretended to agree with him, he didn't notice if you were listening or not.

"I still want a cape, too..."

That broke through Mirage's boredom. She laughed. "After it got stuck in that jet? And here I thought you were smart."

Syndrome stopped and turned to her, eyes narrowed. "'And here I thought you were smart,'" he mocked. "I've always wanted a cape, even when I was Incredibo-" He cut himself short and started over. "I mean, my authority is not for you to question. You forget your place."

Before he could blink, Mirage lashed out and grabbed his wrist, pointing at his remote. "My place? Why? Because of this? It's you who has forgotten. You forget what I can do."

Those blue eyes widened, and that freckled face paled once more. Syndrome remembered well the extent of Mirage's power, her ability to make you think or feel whatever she wished you to believe… Why, she'd even fooled Mr. Incredible and Frozone into thinking a building was on fire, and that the police were signaling for help… Mirage could fool the best of them, and Syndrome was no exception.

He pulled away and continued their walk down the hall. He didn't speak until they reached the doors of Mirage's living space. With the punch of a button, the doors slid open and Syndrome motioned for her to enter.

"Set up the appointment with Edna Mode and order any missing resources," he murmured. He turned to leave, but then came back, as if he'd forgotten something. "One last thing. It's not that I don't trust you are anything," he couldn't hide the sarcasm in his voice, "but all of your calls will be monitored. Can't have the Parr family knowing I'm alive, right?"

He laughed maniacally. As the doors clicked shut behind him, Mirage couldn't help but feel as though she had been locked in a tomb.  
---------------

Bob Parr was raving.

He didn't mean too, of course. However, even super-heroes sometimes have a problem restraining themselves, and Bob was one of the worst.

"I can't believe they got away with it!" he yelled over the dinner table. "No one stopped them!"

Violet froze in her chair, hoping, praying that her father didn't know about her presence bank robbery. If there was anything her father hated, it was a bad guy who slipped through their fingers.

Bob pointed at an article in the sports section of the newspaper. "How can the Metroville professional football team be this terrible?! It's crazy! They just let the other team waltz in, beat them into the ground, and leave! We have no defense! No one on our team could stop them!"

Violet let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her dad wasn't talking about the robbery at all!

"It's just sports, honey," Helen said absently. She continued coaxing Jack-Jack to eat his steamed carrots. Violet, meanwhile, was just about to stop worrying when Helen said, "Oh, did you hear? Three unidentified boys robbed the First National Bank today. Eyewitnesses say they had 'unnatural powers.'"

Bob looked up sharply. "Unnatural powers? Do you… Do you think they'll revoke the Super-Human Rights if this catches on?"

Helen grinned. "That's why we'd better catch them. Strangest thing, though. They didn't take that much money."

"Maybe they were just in it for thrills," Violet said before she could stop herself. She couldn't help but think of Joshua's words. "I mean, they could have taken it all, but they didn't. Maybe they'll just go away."

Dash eyed Violet suspiciously. "Weren't you in that area today, Vi'? You see anything?"

Violet stammered, "N-No. I- I, I mean, it must have happened after we left. I didn't spot anything unusual." She hated having all those eyes on her. She wanted to hide behind her hair like she used to, or even better, turn invisible. But such an action would look too suspicious. Instead, she stood up. "I'm full. Loads of homework to do. 'Night."

She hurried from the room. Dash watched her go. He'd known his sister all his life, and he knew better than anyone when she was telling a lie.

The phone in Bob's office began to ring. It was a video-phone, specially made by Mirage's company for all the Supers she knew. Bob answered it, and was surprised to see Edna Mode on the other line.

"Robert! How good it is to see you. We should chat more often, darling, but you never call. So lonely I am in this big house." Edna said, her words coming from her mouth faster them Bob could comprehend them.

"I'm sorry, E, I've just been real busy, what with coming out of retirement and all-" Bob tried to explain.

Edna interrupted. "Yes, yes, we all have our excuses, darling. The reason for my call. I had a very unusual order come in over the phone. People usually come in person, but no, not her. Do you know who it was?"

"Who?" Bob asked reluctantly.

"This I cannot tell you!" Edna shouted. "This order was placed for someone who would be of much interest to you, but I have been paid for my silence. I think, perhaps, the woman who called in the order did so not of her own will. She could not say so, of course."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because she sent this with the measurements for the suit," Edna explained. She held up a square business card. It had small, neat handwriting on it. Bob leaned closure to the screen and read aloud.

"'Tell Bob he's alive,'" he read. "What? Of course I'm alive, what does that have to do with-"

"NO!" Edna shouted. She waved a free hand on her end of the screen as if to hit her correspondent. "The card is not about you! Look what's on the back."

She turned it around. In the middle of the card was a company insignia that Bob could not identify. A capital 'S' sat etched in the center of a triangle, surrounded by an embellished circle.

"I don't recognize it…" Bob admitted.

"Oh?" Edna mused. She pressed it closer the video phone. "I suppose you wouldn't, you haven't seen it in three years. This, my pudgy friend, is the logo for SyndroCorp."

"What?! He's- he's alive?!" Bob sputtered, saliva flying all over the screen.

"Maybe, darling, and maybe no," Edna said in her broken English. She leaned back and put her finger on the disconnect button. "But, remember, I have been paid to say nothing."

She hung up just as abruptly as she had called. Long after the screen had gone blank, Bob sat with his head in a daze, wishing Edna could tell him more.  
---------------

Mirage couldn't believe that at this time yesterday, she had been the president of her own multi-billion dollar company. Now she was forced to stay in he room, starving, by an twenty-six-year old child. She cursed her luck as her stomach gave another growl. Perhaps she could order something from a guard, but then again, Syndrome never did treat his captives well.

She felt tears burn behind her eyes, threatening to fall. The whole thing was so unjust, so wrong… She wished her powers worked on herself, and she could make herself believe she was on an island somewhere, sipping a martini.

A knock came at her door. She forced the tears down and straightened herself before answering.

"The boss is waiting for you," the guard who had knocked stated. "The Lava Room has been set up, and dinner has been prepared."

Mirage raised an eyebrow. This was unexpected. She allowed herself to be lead to the transport that would take her to the Lava Room.

Once there, she opened the doors without knocking. Syndrome was there, accompanied but three younger men.

They stopped talking immediately after she came in. The three men, all either in or barely out of their teens, were dressed in identical outfits. One of them, oddly enough, had skin the color of pale blue. Mirage had no knowledge of these boys, and therefore, did not trust them.

Syndrome wrapped up the conversation. "That's good, boys, I'm glad to see that you can get pass Metroville's best security. I'll speak with you tomorrow."

The three nodded to Mirage as they left through the doors she entered through. Mirage, rather than look at the tuxedo-clad Syndrome, stared at the moving lava that was the room's fourth wall.

Syndrome approached her, saying, "Come on, sweetheart. You can't pretend you're not hungry. Look, I've got all your favorite foods." He beckoned towards the large table piled with food. It all smelled wonderful, and Mirage hadn't eaten since her coffee earlier that morning. Her stomach let out another betraying growl.

"I'd rather not," Mirage lied. "I don't feel like dining with _you_."

Still not looking at him, Mirage headed towards the door. She stopped as he grasped her hand.

Syndrome's hold on her hand tightened, but it was gentle, like that of a lost child alone and scared. She heard him say, "Please…"

Mirage turned. Syndrome's eyes were on the floor, downcast. She knew that his greatest weakness was being left alone, shunned aside like he was as a boy. He had shoved away the powerful villain charade, and was genuinely asking her to dine with him.

"Okay," the word came out of her mouth, though she had not been aware of willing it. She took her seat at the table, and hoped she would not regret it.  
---------------

**Author's Note:  
**I hope you've enjoyed what I have so far and are looking forward to the next chapter (Which will be up on Thursday or Friday.) In case you couldn't tell, Violet's pairing in this fanfic is my "OC" (Original Character) Joshua. Pixar didn't give Violet a super-powered love interest in the film, so we fanfic authors have the fun of creating our own. (Wasn't Tony ugly? I thought so…) But don't worry, Joshua isn't completely trustworthy, so the relationship won't be too boring in the chapters to come. Please leave me a review if you've read this far; I'd sure love to hear what you think. :)


	3. Chapter Three

Erasing the Line  
By Dancer of the Moonlit Lake  
---------------

In the time it had taken both his sister and his father to leave the table, Dash had run into Violet's dimly lit room and waited patiently at her desk.

Violet finally arrived. Dash waved and greeted her with a forceful, "Hi! We have to talk."

Violet picked up her pillow and threatened to throw it at him. "We don't have to do anything, you little worm. Get out of my room!"

Faster than her eyes could see, Dash ran behind her and leapt onto the bed.

"So, why'd you lie at dinner?" he asked. He began to jump up and down on her bed, mocking her. "Didja chicken out of stopping the robbery? Or were the bad guys too much for you?" Violet cast a force-field bubble around him. As he jumped, Dash hit his head on the roof of the bubble. He fell to the bottom and rubbed his head painfully. "Ow!"

"Sit still," Violet commanded. Dash complied as his sister organized her thoughts. "Yes, I saw the criminals. Except… They didn't seem like they were in it for profit, you know? It was like… They were trying to prove themselves." Violet looked at her brother, and saw that one of his eyebrows was raised skeptically. "I mean, they were just like us! They had super-powers, but… I got the feeling they NEEDED to do what they did. That's why I didn't stop them."

"Vi'," Dash pleaded, leaning up against the wall of the bubble, "We're Supers. It's our job to stop anyone who breaks the law. There are good guys, and there are bad guys. We're good guys because we stop bad guys. The line is clear."

"I wish I could be as sure as you are," Violet sighed. The force-field around Dash faded away. Violet hugged herself and seemed to become smaller, as only Violet could. She sat down next to Dash and stared at her lap. "I'm so confused. He… he was so nice…"

Dash had no idea what Violet was talking about. Of course, how could he, Dash had not been there when Joshua had smiled at his sister so kindly. Dash looked around, as if to make sure no one was watching, then hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, Vi'. We'll get them next time. They'll go away to jail and you'll never see them again."

For some reason, this fact didn't comfort Violet at all.  
---------------

Mirage awoke the next morning to the wonderful smell of sausage and brewed coffee. She lifted herself from bed and wrapped a robe around her nightdress. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she entered the kitchen. At the table was a marvelous spread of breakfast foods. She didn't need to think very hard to realize who'd put it there. Mirage suppressed a shiver. Personally, she thought Syndrome was laying the charm on a little too thick, and she had extremely mixed feelings about the fact that he might have been in her room while she was sleeping.

Glancing at the clock, she realized that it was already ten-thirty. Usually Mirage arose much earlier, but of course, she was no longer running her own company. Along with providing breakfast, Syndrome must have also taken the liberty of un-setting her alarm clock.

Mirage sat and poured herself some coffee. It _was_ very good, and undoubtedly expensive... Mirage sighed. At least Syndrome was trying to make amends. She just wasn't sure how she felt about it.

Once dressed in her usual grey attire, Mirage ventured outside her confinement. To her surprise, there were no guards or escorts posted at the door. She wandered around the island metropolis freely.

Already Syndrome had workers installing teleportation-devices to replace the slower transports. All a person had to do was stand on a silver disk and- flash- they were instantly whisked away to their destination; no cars, no hassles. It heavily reminded Mirage of Star Trek, but then again, Syndrome loved that kind of thing.

Mirage approached them and spoke quickly. "Where can I find Syndrome?"

"Um... one of the conference rooms in Wing D, I believe. He's meeting with those Supers, overseeing the production of the newest Omnidroid."

"Thank you," Mirage said, then expertly walked off. Everywhere Mirage turned she saw evidence of Syndrome's control; his latest security inventions were being installed and the 'S' insignia had returned.

Upon finding the conference room, Mirage lingered outside the door. The guard had said that Syndrome was going over his plans... Would her presence make him dismiss whomever he was speaking to, as he had last night? Or would he have her dragged back to her quarters? Not wanting to risk the latter, Mirage leaned an ear against the wooden door and listened.

"The Omnidroid is almost ready for it's trial run," Mirage heard Syndrome's eccentric voice say. "My new modifications are flawless. When it's done, I'll find some way to get that so called 'incredible' family here. You three will take care of Elastigirl and those children… I want to duke it out with Mr. Incredible himself, man to super-freak."

"How come I have to be on kid duty?" the deep voice of a large man said.

Syndrome explained, "I underestimated that family last time I fought them. They work best as a team. I took down Mr. Incredible when he was alone, no sweat. But when his family teamed up, they defeated my Omnidroid. Besides, Wildfire, restraining yourself will be enough of a challenge for you."

"Why do I have to restrain myself?" Wildfire replied indignantly.

"Use your brain, big guy! This is a dormant volcano, if you go over-board with your powers, it may not stay that way-"

"Um… Ms. Mirage?" A voice caught the blonde eavesdropper by surprise, and Mirage visibly jumped. She whirled around, her eyes uncharacteristically wide. She saw a timid henchman; probably someone who'd never participated in villainy before. Behind him stood a semi-large box. He spoke again, "This arrived for the boss… From an 'Edna Mode'…"

Mirage brushed a few loose strands from her face and slipped back into her professional mindset. "Thank you," she said curtly, "You can leave that with me. I'll deliver it myself."

The worked hurriedly ran off. Mirage lifted the box under one arm, it was light for it's size. It obviously contained Syndrome's awaited super-suit.

Without her previous hesitation, Mirage burst into the conference room unannounced. As he did before, Syndrome immediately stopped talking. The four men, Syndrome and the Super-powered boys, were crowded around a table filled with documents and maps.

"You're suit is here," Mirage said, taking advantage of the silence. "I trust you'll be pleased with it."

Syndrome's eyes immediately brightened, but as he was determined to keep his business-like appearance, only Mirage noticed. "Boys," he said, "Why don't you see how the Omnidroid is coming, and bring back a full report in an hour."

The Supers headed towards the door obediently, the oldest and youngest each offering Mirage a "good-bye." The blue one, however, only nodded as he had before. The moment they were gone, Syndrome was upon his package like a child on a birthday gift.

"Why doesn't that pale blue child speak like his companions?" inquired Mirage.

"Who, Indigo? He doesn't _have_ a voice of his own," Syndrome said absently as packing paper and tissue flew everywhere. A sheet of paper floated to the floor, and Mirage picked it up.

"Here it is!" Syndrome proclaimed, lifting the dark fabric from the box. His face instantly fell. "Hey… It looks the same as before!"

"This says," Mirage told him, reading from the sheet she picked up, "That you suit contains all the specifications you asked for, even the cape."

"But I wanted something new! I wanted it to look different!"

"Says here that it's a whole shade darker than your last one, which gives it a different 'mood.'"

Syndrome stared at the fabric. "How much…" he said cautiously, as if trying to control his temper, "Did I spend on this? More or less than six figures?"

"More. But not a lot more, mind, and that's including that gadgets for Edna's studio," Mirage consoled.

Syndrome cringed. Though he was unspeakably rich, his wealth was not endless, and he hated being ripped off. He stood, bringing the suit with him.

"I'm going to try it on," he said. He could not hide the disappointment in his voice.

As Syndrome stomped off to the empty conference room across the hall, it took Mirage a moment to recognize the emotion within her was pity. She didn't know why she felt sorry for him. He was wealthy; he could buy ten thousand super-suits if he wanted. Not to mention he was selfish, always bent on revenge and making himself happy. Why should she feel sorry for him… why should she feel anything at all?

It must have been his face. Try as he might, Syndrome could never hide his true emotions. He would cover it up with false superiority, or his over-the-top the moods… But his true motives always shined through.

Indeed, why should she feel anything? She was Mirage, prurient and beautiful, sleek and desirable. He was a man who'd never really grown up, who needed to be accepted, who was, in so many was, still a child. Mirage wasn't sure of what she wanted, but the logical side of her brain doubted that Syndrome was the one to give it to her.

"So, how do I look?" the very same man called from the door.

It was like gazing back in time. Mirage saw him, standing there, tall in proud in his super-suit. It was as though nothing had changed over the past three years, as though she'd never had to grieve for his death. Time had stood still for Syndrome; he looked exactly the same. Another emotion, a mixture of grief and longing Mirage could not identify, welled up inside her.

She swallowed. Though Syndrome was incapable of hiding his emotions, Mirage could.

"You look great."  
---------------

Much later that same day, Bob Parr found himself walking through the front door of his house, home from work. He hadn't really been aware of the passing day, his mind on Edna's call. He barely realized that his wife was talking to him.

"Huh? What was that, honey?" Bob asked, hanging up his coat and hat.

Helen sighed. "I said, how was your day at work? You'd think I was asking you to do Violet's calculus homework…"

"It was fine." Bob half-heartedly laughed at Helen's joke. "Listen… I got a call from E'…"

"Edna?" Helen asked suspiciously. Her eyes followed Bob as he put away his briefcase. "She called you? What about?"

Bob took a seat on the couch and beckoned his wife to join him. He took a long time to get the words out, because he wasn't sure how to say them. "I… I think, well, really, _Edna_ thinks, but _I_ think she might be right…"

"Bob, you're rambling."

"Sorry. The point is… I think… Syndrome might be alive."

"WHAT?!"

Bob nodded and stared at their fading carpet. "Yeah. Apparently someone ordered a super-suit, nothing unusual, right? Well, when Edna received the measurements, the logo for SyndroCorp was pinned to them."

Helen looked at her husband, shock written all over her features. "SyndroCorp? But... But didn't Mirage turn that company into 'Illusions Incorporated?'"

"I thought so, too. But if Syndrome is alive, I doubt he'd have any trouble taking back his island."

A sickening, horrifying fear leapt in Helen's chest. With one hand she turned Bob's face, making him meet her eyes. "Do you think..." Helen choked, "Do you think he'll come for Jack-Jack?"

"I don't know," Bob whispered. He wrapped Helen in a tight embrace. For the first time in a long time, the great Mr. Incredible was truly afraid.

A long, long moment of silence fell into the room, settling on them like snowfall. The clock ticked away, making the moment stretch into seconds, the seconds stretch into minutes... At last Bob let his wife go. He grasped her shoulders.

"We have to go after him."

Helen jumped up and pulled away, giving Bob a look of utter disbelief. "What?! Bob, no! What do you expect we do, rent a plane and storm the island? I've tried that before, and trust me, it doesn't work out so well!"

Always quick to anger, Bob stood and returned her loud words with his own. "No, I didn't say that! I mean, of course we couldn't just 'storm the island-'"

"Then what?! What _are_ you saying?!"

"I... I don't know, okay?!" Bob shouted. He looked away once more. When he spoke again, his voice was hopeless. "I don't know anything. We have no way of contacting Mirage—I've already tried. And we can't let Syndrome stay on that island, surrounded by technology. Who knows what he could invent?"

Helen put a hand on Bob's shoulder. "Let's not talk about this right now. We'll think of something." She turned and headed for the kitchen. Bob started towards his office, but Helen's hand stretched across the room and landed on his shoulder. "Bob... Don't tell the kids what we know. I don't want them to worry."

Bob nodded. What they didn't know was that their invisible daughter had heard the whole thing.

Violet retreated to her room and flung herself across the bed. If Syndrome was truly alive... Then Violet knew the identity of Joshua's boss.  
---------------

**Author's Note:  
**I apologize for not having this chapter up when I said I would; there's a "kink" in the fourth chapter I had to work out, and a change would influence this one. I didn't want to post this chapter and have to change it. That would be confusing!  
I hope you like where the plot is going, and that you won't run away scared because of my obvious pairings. The next chapter or two are going to be more "action oriented," and I can't wait to have them done. Thanks again for reading. :)


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